Artist: Aaron Jasinski 2001
You can be sitting there, within an easy reach of them. So close and SO far away. They swim around, largely oblivious of your world and how it’s treating you when you happen by. They’ve been doing it their whole lives and they’ll keep doing it after you’ve gone on your own way. They might not even really notice you there, except as a vague idea far removed from their immediate lives. I mean, sure they notice you, sure they’re aware of you. Maybe they even enjoy having you mosey by, in their own way.
They’re so close to you. And a whole world away. Isn’t that amazing? That you can be so close to something and still be part of a world so completely different it might as well be a dream.
You can sit there at the edge all day, and watch them and come to feel like you share part of their world. You can come down everyday and make it part of your life and you can get to know those fish so very well, a whole world away.
You know they’re checking you out, wondering what your deal is. Maybe they’re curious? Maybe they’ve seen you before and they’re dying to know what goes on when you aren’t there with them. Maybe if they were offered the choice they’d give your world a shot. If it wasn’t for the whole “I’ve spent my whole life in this pond and I’m doing just fine breathing water, thanks” thing.
You ever thought about being a fish? You know, a smart one. Smarter than your average fish. Could you want to be down there with your favorite fish so much that you’d actually… take the plunge? (eew, sorry. *grin*) But what do you know about being a fish? Would you start thinking like a fish? Would you slide into it so naturally that you’d wonder why you hadn’t done it before? Or would you commit to being a fish and then hate it? All scaly and let’s face it, most of your new friends are kinda fishy and have been all their lives. Not their fault. They grew up that way.
I dunno. I don’t think I could be a fish. Nice place to visit, but I like being a walking talking air-breather.
So what if you’d gotten so attached to your fish that, if you were granted a wish, you’d turn one or two of them into walking-talking-air-breathers? Let’s say that these fish of yours were already way smarter than your average fish and they were obviously up to the task of such a huge change of perspective.
Now there’s an interesting question.
All they’ve known their whole lives is this one little corner of the whole wide ocean. You want to take them away from everyone and everything they’ve ever known? Maybe a fish is all they’re ever supposed to be. Maybe fish are content being fish and taking that much of a leap is just too much for a fish. For anyone. I already said I don’t think I could join their world. Maybe we’re supposed to be separated.
But c’mon now. Don’t you think a smart fish, a really bright one, might love our world? Thrive in it, even? Surely the limitless possibilities of being one of us is worth the risk? What risk? Well, let’s say that these fish could go back to being fish whenever they wanted. So they’re not losing the family and friends forever. It’ll just be damned inconvenient.
I’m not sure I’m thinking this through rationally, but I don’t really have to be rational when I’m talking about yoinking a fish out of water, do I?
It all goes both ways. If I’m reluctant to leave my world then surely a fish is justified in harbouring (ouch!) the same hesitation. Hell, a fish out of water, right?
I’m biased, of course. I love being me. I can jump in the water anytime I want. Swim around with the fish for a while and even pretend I’m a fish if I get invited to dinner parties. Sooner or later, though, I’ll be glad to get back out of the water. The same can’t be said of these fish I somehow got so attached to.
There’s GOT to be some Zen wisdom here, Chu?
If I were to take the Zen path, I’m guessing I would continue my life, continue coming here to visit the fish, and if one day one of them jumps out and starts to chat me up then I’ll just accept that with what grace I can muster and be happy.
Yeah?
These are things that have crossed my mind lately, too.
I think of my own selfishness (heh, that word has “fish” in it), lately, and how it seems that I am so comfortable in my own little bubble while people I care about make sacrifices around me.
I think I follow you on this one, DJ– I think I understand.
COMMENT:
Very excellent post. You’ve thought it through well.
All the points that I could think of raising while I was reading it were eventually raised. The whole why-would-a-fish-want-to-leave-their-world-if-I-don’t-want-to-leave-mine idea, etc.
Also, what is it really like to be a fish? Wouldn’t you like to find out, if you could have the same deal (come back whenever you want, it’s just “damned inconvenient”). What is their world like, how is it different seeing it from their eyes?
This is similar to some of the thinking that I have… though, mine usually applies to combat and… hmmm… instinct.
We were all once fish.
Its evolution baby.
Some of us left the pond for one reason or another, no reason we can’t try to go back. That’s just it. ~try~.
Fish or non, this life is short.
we’re still talking about fish here, right?
:)
Fishies are stupid. Accept that, embrace it. Sometimes fishies don’t know what’s good for them and what isn’t. Haven’t you ever heard the pet store people tell you not to feed them too much, because they are DUMB ANIMALS who don’t know better than to gorge themselves, thus committing suicide in a positively fishy way? They are also known to have a 30 second attention span (that may be just goldfish) which goes to show how and why they came to be in bowls and we walk on land.
Then again, it could just be that that poor little fishie you’re contemplating is looking at you and thinking that you’re too awesome for them – walking on land, breathing air and whatnot, and they resign themselves to fishy fate.
You were doing alright until that last paragraph. That was just… silly. Resigning one’s self to one’s fate is what you do if you’re in a Shakespearean play. This is reality, where you get to choose your own fate. That means following your heart and having confidence in your choices. Life’s too short, sugar. Life’s too short. If you aren’t happy with a decision you’ve made, change it, but don’t waste time and passion dwelling on regret or “what ifs”. That belittles you and everyone else involved.